The Last Resort
by Marblez
Summary: Guy had no choice. In order to save his brothers he had to give up his own life, give up on everything he ever wanted and dreamed. He had to commit the one crime he neverthought he would. Murder. Slash later on.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Mighty Ducks'.

Summary: Guy saves his brothers by sacrificing everything.

The Last Resort

~ Prologue ~

Pulling the gun out of it's hiding place under his mattress he checked that it was loaded with shaking hands. It was. Six bullets. Looking in the mirror was a mistake; he hated the battered thing that stared back at him with almost dead eyes. Snapping his eyes away he walked out of his bedroom and down the hall, heading for his parents room. He tried his hardest not to think about the sinful crime he was about to commit. But he had no choice.

"Guy?" the quiet voice came from behind him and he turned around slowly, the gun held in his hand at his side, "What are you doing?"

"Saving us. It's alright, Mikey, go back to bed," Guy said gently. Mikey stared at the black gun in silence for a moment before speaking, his tone full of worry,

"You gonna shoot daddy?"

"Yes."

"It won't kill him. You can't kill the Devil," Michael said completely seriously. Guy shuddered at the almost dead tone of his baby brothers voice and he felt his determination to do this evil deed grow within him. They had all suffered enough at Patrick Germaines hands.

Tonight it ended.

Michael slipped back into the room he shared with Peter and Guy continued down the cluttered hall. Opening the door to his parents room as quietly as he could he tip-toed over their mess until he stood at **his **side of the bed. He could smell the alcohol on his fathers breath as he aimed the pistol at his forehead.

He took a deep breath.

He closed his eyes.

He pulled the trigger.

A/N This is a very short teaser. Hope you liked it.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Mighty Ducks'.

Summary: Guy saves his brothers by sacrificing everything.

The Last Resort

~ Chapter One ~

"I'm sorry sir, you can't go in there-"

"I'm Gordon Bombay, Mr Germaines attorney."

"Ah. Well you wont have much of a job to do. Kids already confessed to one of the murders and the evidence will get him on the second. You could make our jobs easier and get him to confess to both."

This was said as the door to the small interrogation room was finally opened and Gordon Bombay, dressed in his most lawyer like suit stepped inside. Guy looked up from the spot on the table he'd been staring at since they'd left him alone after taking his official statement.

"Oh Guy…"

"Sorry Coach…I-I didn't know who else to call," Guy said quietly, looking away from the sad face as he tried to hold back his tears. His hands were cuffed behind his back still so any tears he shed would fall unstopped down his cheeks. He didn't want anyone to see him cry.

"Can the cuffs be removed please?" Gordon asked as he noticed them. The cop did as he was asked and Guy brought his hands round, rubbing the sore wrists gently. "And I want the recording equipment switched off. My client is entitled to a private conversation with me before we continue."

"I'll see to it," the cop nodded before leaving the room. Gordon sat in the seat opposite Guy, placing his briefcase on the desk in front of him. Over the intercom the same cop said, "You've ten minutes, then the recording equipment goes back on."

"Thank you," Gordon said to the one way mirror before looking back to Guy who was staring at the same spot on the table, "Oh Guy, what happened? Why did you kill him?" Guy let out a small sob before beginning to speak in a choked voice,

"My little brothers call our father the Devil and with good reason. I was eight when it first happened to me, when he came into my bedroom at night. He'd gotten tired of beating my mother senseless and then raping her. He moved on to me," he wiped a tear away as Gordon stared in shock, "I got used to it. I learnt to deal with it. But then about a year ago I realised he was doing the same to Peter and Michael. I confronted him about it and-and he almost killed me. I was out of school for a week. He threatened us into silence after that, he said he'd kill our mum if we ever told or tried to run away." Another tear was wiped away with a shaking hand,

"When I was away at the Goodwill Games he…he really hurt Peter. He had to go to hospital. No one told me until I got back and found my little brother had 'been trying to cook himself some dinner against his parents wishes and his sleeve had caught fire'. That's what the hospital report says. In reality my little brother who was ten years old at the time had tried to stand up to my bastard of a father and he'd set his sleeve on fire with his lighter. He'd stood and watched as my brother's arm was burnt so badly he's going to be crippled all his life. He laughed." The tears fell unstopped now as he remembered finding all this out from Peter and Michael as if it were yesterday, "That was the day I realised that the only way to save my brothers lives was to kill my father."

"I would hav-" Gordon began.

"Please Coach, just let me tell it. If I stop now…I don't know if I'll be able to finish it," Guy said tearfully, almost pleading with Gordon. Slowly Gordon nodded, signalling for the fifteen year old to continue with the story. "I bought a gun with all the money I'd saved up from odd jobs and chores. I hid it and…and waited. I waited almost a year until…until he…he brought a friend over to play with Michael. Michael is nine years old. I tried to stop them and for my trouble I got the shit kicked out of me and I was tied to a chair and I had to watch," Guys voice was so choked by tears Gordon could barely hear him, "That was two weeks ago. I waited until he went on one of drinking sprees. I didn't know about mum, I didn't see her all evening. I just thought she'd gone out. I waited until he went to bed, I got my gun and I shot him in head. I was too much of a coward to do it when he was awake." He took a deep breath and his tear filled eyes met Gordon's almost calmly, "I told the police that came to the scene this. I didn't hide anything about the murder. I am prepared to accept the punishment for my actions. Because now my brothers are safe. They're out of that house. I just-I just have one favour to ask you Coach…"

"Ask," Gordon whispered, never breaking eye contact.

"Make sure they stay together and that they go to a nice family and that their happy. I don't want to have rescued them from one Hell only to end up in another," Guy sobbed, wiping at his cheeks again and again in an attempt to get rid of his tears. "Will you do that?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise. And I will do everything in my power to help you Guy," Gordon promised passionately, his hands moving out automatically to hold Guy's shaking ones gently on the table top.

"I don't care about me. I'm not worth saving any more. He's poisoned my mind and my body. They can still be saved. I'm-I'm a lost cause Coach," Guy said sadly, "I just killed my own father and I deserve whatever punishment they give me. I will accept whatever punishment they will give me."

"I don't care what you think Guy. I will fight for you," Gordon said passionately just as the door opened and a detective in a smart suit walked in.

"Times up I'm afraid, the recording equipment is being turned back on," the detective said quietly, "We need to interrogate Mr Germaine now." Gordon got up from the seat he was in and sat in the one next to Guy while the detective sat down in his recently vacated seat. "I take it you have agreed to represent him."

"Yes."

"Then we'll begin. Could you please state your name for the record and spell it aloud," the detective looked at Guy who was wiping his cheeks quickly.

"Guy Germaine. G-U-Y G-E-R-M-A-I-N-E," Guy answered slowly.

"Did you kill your father Guy?" the detective asked.

"Yes."

And so began the interrogation.

A/N Ta-Dah. What do you think those few of you who have read this?


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Mighty Ducks'.

Summary: Guy saves his brothers by sacrificing everything.

The Last Resort

~ Chapter Two ~

**DOUBLE MURDER IN ST PAUL, MINNESOTA.**

Early this morning the bodies of Patrick and Helen Germaine were discovered in their bedroom by Police responding to a 911 call made by their eldest son.

In the call their son, who at this point cannot be named, confessed to the murder of his father and claimed that he'd discovered his mothers body.

So far this has neither been confirmed nor denied.

The Germaines two younger sons have been taken into care.

SON SAVES BROTHERS FROM ABUSIVE FATHER.

It has now been reported that Patrick Germaine was shot in the head by his son to save his two younger brothers from their father's violent and sexual attacks.

Forensic evidence has led to the belief that Patrick Germaine himself had beaten his wife to death earlier in the evening, clearing his son of the second charge of murder.

**GERMAINE CASE GOES TO TRIAL.**

Today Guy Germaine, 15, goes on trial for the murder of his father two weeks ago.

Mr Bombay, a lawyer who has returned to the profession for this case, released this statement on today's trial;

"Guy Germaine shot his father in self-defence.

Now it wasn't self-defence in the strictest definition of the word but self-defence it was and that is the argument we will be using in court."

We'll have to wait and see if Mr Bombay's argument is enough.

**GERMAINE TRIAL OVER.**

Yesterday the court listened to what Guy Germaine, 15, had to say in his own defence when charged with murdering his father,

"I am guilty of murdering him and I will accept whatever punishment is seen fit.

But you should know a couple of things about him before you pass your sentence.

When I was eight years old he started abusing me in every sense of the word, he was tired with hurting my mother.

I put up with it.

A few years ago he started do the same to my brothers.

I could not and would not put up with that.

I bought a gun and I waited until the next time he drank himself to sleep.

And then I saved my brothers.

I wish I'd saved my mother too.

As for saving me, well I just killed someone.

I don't think I'm worth saving do you?"

The jury took over an hour to decide the sentence of Mr Germaine - he was found guilty of murder.

_Dear Ducks,_

_I am writing this letter to say goodbye. Please don't try to visit. Please don't write. I want you to forget all about me and move on with your lives. _

_Your Sincerely, _

_Guy Germaine. _

A/N There we go. What do you think?


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Mighty Ducks'.

Summary: Guy saves his brothers by sacrificing everything.

The Last Resort

~ Chapter Three ~

"Look I'm going to be blunt, I don't trust you. You're an ex-con, worse than that you're a murderer. Ideally I wouldn't have you working for me, if you came to an interview I wouldn't even give you a chance. But I know Jake, you're parole officer, and I've never had cause not to believe before. He says you're a good guy. So I'm taking you on as a Rink Janitor. You'll be working with Paul; he will be in charge of you. Any problems or complaints and you're out," Mr Preston, the Rink Manager said almost coldly. The man sitting on the other side of his desk nodded, his eyes down. "Fill this form out with your personal details. Then read this contract and sign on the dotted line. You'll get a copy of the contract to keep yourself."

"Right," the mans voice was hoarse, like he'd smoked too many cigarettes. His hands reached out and took the pen and the two sheets of paper. Mr Preston noticed immediately the tattoos on both hands, across the fingers - LOVE on the right, HATE on the left. Prison tattoos. There were scars on his hands too and they disappeared under the cuffs of his long sleeved shirt. Leaning on the edge of the desk he wrote quietly, filling in the personal details form with his messy handwriting. He held the pen awkwardly in his right hand, like his fingers hand been broken and hadn't been set properly afterwards. "I don't have a home number at the moment. Will a cell number be alright?"

"Yes, that'll be fine," Mr Preston nodded, watching as the number was scribbled down. "What happened to your hand?"

"Fingers broken too many times," a shrug accompanied his answer.

"Will you be able to handle the job?" Mr Preston asked.

"It's just cleaning," the man shrugged again, "We cleaned a lot in prison." He finished filling in the form and then picked up the contract, holding it close to his face to read it. His free hand reached up and pushed his hair out of his face, showing his face to Mr Preston for the first time in this interview. His eyes were dull and had a tired look to them. He also had two scars on his face, one on his forehead, which split his left eyebrow and disappeared into his hairline. The other scar was on his right cheek and seemed like it was still healing. Not so much a scar as a cut. Eventually he'd read it all and obviously agreed with what it said as he signed his name on the dotted line and handed both forms back.

"Thank you," Mr Preston said as he took them back, putting them next to each other on his desk. "You're hours are seven am to five pm. You'll have an hour lunch and two half hour breaks. On game days you'll be expected to stay on and help clean up during and after. Paul will tell you all about this when you start tomorrow." He stood from his seat and the man opposite hurried to copy him. Mr Preston went over to one of the many cabinet in his office and opened it up, pulling out a khaki set of over-alls with 'Janitor' stencilled on the back. He then grabbed a baseball cap, also marked with the word 'Janitor'. He handed both things to the man. "Do you have a pair of good working boots? Preferably black?"

"I have the boots I'm wearing. The prison gave them to me when I got out," he lifted up his jeans to show the marine style boots, already scuffed to Hell.

"They'll do," Mr Preston nodded, "You can wear whatever tops you want under the over-all. Be here on the dot at seven and ready to work. Paul will meet you at the doors; he has the keys. He'll show you where to sign in and he'll explain your duties to you. See you tomorrow Mr Germaine."

"Thank you," Guy said, holding his uniform tightly as he left the room. He walked down the stairs from the Rink Managers office, walked through the lobby and then out into the cold Minnesota air. He'd been out of prison a couple of weeks and the only person he'd talked to was his parole officer, Jake. No one else knew he was out. Not his brothers. Not his old friends. Not even Bombay, he'd hired a different lawyer for his parole hearing. Jake had gotten him his cheap and cheerful apartment and had found him the job too, something he was sure he wouldn't have been able to do on his own. His status as an ex-con had people literally shrinking back in fear; especially when they found out he had been in for murder. No one he'd approached had wanted to give him a job.

"So?" Jake asked, jumping up from where he'd been leaning on the hood of his car waiting for Guy.

"I got the job. It's pretty much white slavery but I didn't really expect more," Guy answered with a shrug, getting into the parole officers car when Jake unlocked the car. "I've got to be back, dressed in these, at seven am tomorrow morning. I'll have to find out what bus I should catch…"

"I'll give you a ride tomorrow and we'll sort out the buses later," Jake said eagerly as he started the car.

"You're way too nice for a cop," Guy told him, "Fuck I need a cigarette."

"Roll down the window and you can have one," Jake said. Guy muttered thanks as he did just that, "And I'm your parole officer, it's my job to be nice to you."

"Not this nice. Word was parole officers will do only what they need to and cut you free," Guy told him as he lit up his cigarette, breathing in the smoke eagerly.

"Well that's not the way I do it. I think you have the potential to be a good guy, I think you are a good guy. You just need a helping hand and I will be that helping hand," Jake said with a bright grin.

"Right…" Guy nodded slowly, "Fine, you want to help me, help me."

"Oh I will."

A/N There we go. Another chapter. What do you think?


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